


The Mighty Fall

by ttamarrindo



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Airbender!Wonpil, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Avatar!AU, Earthbender!Sungjin, Firebender!Dowoon, Inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender, M/M, Nonbender!Jae, Waterbender!Brian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttamarrindo/pseuds/ttamarrindo
Summary: “But I can’t, I’m - I’m just a student,” Wonpil stutters, looks pleadingly up at the man. Wonpil has never stepped a foot outside the Temple, has only ever known it's safety, and now they're asking him to travel across miles and miles of land and sea, completely alone.Wonpil doesn't feel brave, he doesn't feel strong. He failed his teacher and he failed his best friend, he's none of those things. But the airbenders need him, he reminds himself, they're all counting on him, so he clenches his hands around the golden coin and makes a decision.Wonpil already failed his family once, he won’t do it again.(Or, Wonpil is trying to make his way back home before it's too late. Luckily he finds a few friends along the way who are willing to help him out.)Tag will be updated as I go.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so, for those of you who follow me on tumblr then you know I've been planning this for a while now. This is going to be a chaptered fic with a heavy plot line. I have most of it already planned out, I just have to actually write the thing.
> 
> Also, huge, _huge_ thanks to anyone and everyone who helped jumpstart this fic on tumblr, you guys are the best  <3 I hope this was worth the wait (and doesn't disappoint)
> 
> I'm super excited about this one guys, so I hope you'll like the first chapter. Be ready too, cause it's going to be a long, long ride.

“There’s a storm coming tonight.”

Wonpil lets out a breath. He feels someone come to stand behind him, the soft pad of bare feet hitting ground-stone, but he doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t need to see Jinyoung to know that the other is frowning; lips pursed tight in concern in the way they’ve been ever since the first attack took them all by surprise.

“I know,” Wonpil agrees and keeps on watching as the clouds drag by the sky below him, drifting along the edges of the Temple, heavy with rain and the promise of thunder.

“You skipped training today,” Jinyoung comments. He takes a seat beside him on the platform that runs along the side of the east cliff where Wonpil is perched, feet dangling into the fall. “Again.” 

The other boy is cross-legged, back ramrod straight, and for a moment Wonpil lets himself pretend that they are about to begin one of those mental exercises Jinyoung is so fond of, the ones he always likes to force Wonpil into doing with him. But Jinyoung is tense too, shoulders pulled taut and his hands clenched tightly into fists so that the fantasy of normalcy slips away in between Wonpil’s fingers like tendrils of smoke, too faint to keep a hold of.

“I know,” he says again, doesn’t bother trying to give an excuse because there’s really not one to give. Wonpil wasn’t there in the morning for the usual training drills and he wasn’t there in the afternoon for the air races the boys liked to do behind their teachers’ back either. Wonpil had been here, sitting right by the edge of the mountain’s cliff, far away enough from the main courtyard not to see the rubble left behind the attack and pretending he wasn’t hiding from the ache the sight brought with it.

“You can’t keep acting like this,” Jinyoung chides; something not quite like frustration but close to it bleeding into his tone when all Wonpil does is shrug. “Your teacher wouldn’t have wanted you to-“

“My teacher is dead,” Wonpil bites back, voice heavy with grief. Because that‘s the thing, isn’t it? Wonpil’s mentor is gone, taken away by the men who came in the dead of night and turned his home into a bleeding battlefield. “My teacher is dead, Jinyoung.”

Wonpil can still remember the screaming, the raw desperation clouding his mind as the monks ushered them away and deeper into the Temple in an effort to keep them safe. He remembers the pain too, the moment he realized his teacher was gone when the monks returned after endless hours of hiding and put the man’s pendant in his hands, closed his fingers around it and told him he had wanted Wonpil to have it. A reminder, they said, of the best pupil he ever had.

Wonpil’s hand clenches around the necklace where the pendant hangs from now, its carved wood lodged safely in between his collarbones. It’s a bitter feeling, because all his life Wonpil has only ever wanted to hear those words, make his teacher proud, but not like this, never like this. Because if Wonpil had actually been his best pupil, then he would have been there to save him.

“The monks worry about you,” Jinyoung says carefully, spins his fingers around and then spreads his hand outwards so that the wind forms a small hurricane in his palm and lets it dance across his knuckles. “I worry too.”

“I know,” Wonpil says because that’s all he seems capable of these days. “I’m sorry,” he adds for what it's worth. He knows he’s been distant, hiding away in the crooks and dips of the Temple or deep by the bison’s stalls. And he knows it’s unfair, because Jinyoung is his best friend and he’s hurting too, but Wonpil can’t bring himself to snap out of the hazed stupor he’s been ever since that night.

“It’s not like I blame you,” Jinyoung explains, soft and gentle, like the breeze in a slow morning. Wonpil takes comfort in that. He doesn’t like how the winds seem to behave now. They’re tense, coiled and hard to tame, like they’re readying for battle almost. Wonpil doesn’t like it, feels apprehension crawling up his spine whenever he hears them howl. “But we could use your help. The Temple is still reeling, everyone's too busy to look after the kids and you’ve always been the best with the little ones.”

“I’ll drop by tomorrow,” Wonpil promises. Maybe it’ll help too. The children are always so eager to learn, bursting with endless questions. They don’t understand what the attack on the Temple means for them quite yet, what it means for _every_ airbender. Maybe spending a bit of time with them will help take Wonpil’s mind away from the empty spot at the mess hall, even if just for a moment. 

Wonpil breathes in once, stares at the endless distance of the sky that’s only broken here and there by the rip of the mountain’s peaks as it starts to darken and dim with the shades of twilight.  
“Have they found out who ki- who kill-“ he stutters on the word, swallows back the knot of regret that threatens to choke him, and tries again. “Have they found out who was behind the attack yet?”

“No,” Jinyoung answers and there’s no hiding the frustration cutting his voice thin now. “The monks don’t know _why_ either and there’s been no news from the Fire Nation yet.”

“Of course,” Wonpil breathes, not that surprised by it. Much as the Fire Nation claims to be an ally, they’re not very forthcoming whenever the monks reach out for their help. They’re always making excuses, dancing around the thin line of polite disinterest and outright indifference. 

Wonpil had even entertained the idea for a moment that it might have been _them_ behind the attack, but there had been no signs to confirm the suspicion. No fire emblems and certainly no benders of any kind. Wonpil shudders to think what would have happened to them if there had been any firebenders leading the attack. Certainly more than one student would have been mourning the loss of their mentor, at the very least.

The surprise ambush hadn’t resembled them much either, too detailed and focused, nothing like the sheer chaos and destruction the Fire Nation usually likes to intimidate with. And Wonpil knows that they would have been fools to threaten to disrupt the shaky balance they’ve managed to create between them. They wouldn't have dared to, not with the Earth Kingdom on the brink of war.

That knowledge however, leaves Wonpil with no one but himself to blame.

“Come now,” Jinyoung says then, bumps his shoulder against Wonpil’s. “It’s no use thinking much about it. All we can do is wait for the monks to get some answers.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Wonpil counters, even when he knows Jinyoung right. “I just don’t understand . Why us all of people.”

The Southern Air Nomads have always been neutral, never taking part in any of the wars the other bender nations fought down below their Temple. They’ve learned from what happened to their counterparts in the northern Temple, back in the olds days of the Great War when they sided with the Earth Kingdom and got decimated in return.

“I’m as lost as you are,” Jinyoung admits, tone rueful, before he stands up and reaches out a hand to him. “It’s getting late though, and you need to eat. Come on.”

Wonpil sighs, but ultimately relents. He takes Jinyoung’s hand, lets a gust of wind pull him up to his feet and ignores the other boy’s quiet _show off_ that somehow manages to make a small grin break across his face. He smiles at Jinyoung, trying to convey how thankful he is for his friend’s company even when he doesn’t know how to put it into words. Still, he thinks the way Jinyoung rolls his eyes and ruffles his hair means that the other understands.

The sun has already sunk down behind the clouds when Jinyoung and Wonpil make their way into the Temple, the almost darkness turning them hesitant as they walk in an effort not to wake anyone up and get a lecture in return. 

“Let’s go the kitchens,” Jinyoung whispers quietly. “There’s no one around at this time of night so maybe we could get something to-”

He stops suddenly, head tilted to the side and brows pulled together as if he were trying to make sure he heard something right. Wonpil is just about to open to open his mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he hears it too.

It’s a slow rumble, the tell-tale scratch of heavy boots sliding against the packed ground of the Temple, hushed murmurs and low breathing that don’t belong inside his home. It’s-

“It’s happening again,” Jinyoung breathes out just as realization dawns on Wonpil with a leaden weight. “It’s another attack.”

“What-”

“Quick,” Jinyoung urges him, pushing him in the opposite direction of where the sounds are coming from, where Wonpil can now see a faint shadow moving carefully across the hallway. “Go wake the teachers up and tell them to get ready to defend the Temple again. I’ll-”

“No,” Wonpil cuts in before Jinyoung can finish. “No, I won’t leave you here alone. Not after what happened last time.”

“ _There’s no time for this,_ ” Jinyoung snaps at him, unfurls his staff in the same breath. He turns to Wonpil, rest his hands over his shoulder and squeezes once in an attempt at comfort that falls short with that way they shake in their grip. “Someone needs to warn to others and you’re far quicker than I am. I’ll hold them off. Now _go_.”

Wonpil wants to refuse, wants to stay back and help, but Jinyoung is already rushing away and down the corner. Straight into the enemy's hands.

Wonpil takes in a shuddering breath and unfurls his own staff. Calling for a current to lift him up, Wonpil forces his hands to stops trembling, forces himself to stop thinking that this may be the last time he’ll ever see Jinyoung again.

He lets the wind carry him to the highest point of the Temple, up where the teachers sleep. As soon as his feet touch the ledge Wonpil jumps down, using the winds to run faster still as he races down the hallways. 

“Teacher!” he calls out, slamming the door to their rooms open. “Teacher, there’s been- there’s- we’re under attack again and Jinyoung-, please come help!”

The airbenders are up before Wonpil can get another word in, sensing the sheer desperation in Wonpil’s voice. “Where?” one of them asks, voice cutting, the one Wonpil recognizes as Jinyoung’s own mentor. 

“Down by the library, I-” Wonpil stutters, sees the men exchange wary glances as they reach for their staffs and jump out of the panel windows without prompting. Jinyoung’s mentor climbs on the windowsill, motions for Wonpil to do the same. 

“Come. Lead me to him,” he commands before he lets himself fall. Wonpil does the same, urging the winds to carry him faster as he takes a sharp turn down the side of the Temple and leads Jinyoung’s mentor in search of the other boy.

From the vantage point the distance offers him, Wonpil can see the Temple beginning to wake. The airbenders are making the winds howl in alarm, rushing around as they try to look for the intruders and defend their home at the same time. There’s a monk ushering the children away and into the caves that run deep under the Temple, down where no one ever would thing to look for an airbender.

“Here!” Wonpil calls out before he stumbles to the spot in the mouth of the hallway where he left Jinyoung last. “I left him here befo-”

A pained groan cuts him off. Wonpil freezes, blood turning to ice and eyes widening in fright because he recognises that tone, knows it like he knows the Temple's winds, because that’s _Jinyoung_ and suddenly Wonpil can't move, he can't even _breath_ because, because what if-

“Move,” the elder airbender commands harshly as he steps past Wonpil and into the hallways where Jinyoung’s screams still echo and ring. 

Wonpil can only stand and watch, numb. God, he's such a coward. Is he really going to stand here while his best friend is fighting for his life? He wants to go and help, he _needs_ to, but no matter how much he screams at himself to go his feet refuse to move an inch and so he stays there, rooted.

Then, the screaming stops. Wonpil breathes in raggedly, digs his nails into the stem of his staff until the wood splinters underneath his white-knuckled grip. Should he look for help? Should _he_ be the one to help them?

Before he can come to a decision, a hunched silhouette appears at the end of the hallway. It takes only one look for Wonpil to hurry his way over, relief flooding him from head to toe when he recognises his teacher.

But that relief is short lived, because the man is carrying someone over his shoulder, dragging an unconscious boy behind him and Wonpil almost stumbles on his own feet when he spots Jinyoung’s bloody face, shadowed by bruises. 

“Is he- oh god, please, is he alive?” Wonpil asks, fears the answer he might get because _god_ , he can't even hear Jinyoung’s breathing and he feels regret and guilt sinking their claws into him for the second time in as many weeks, dragging him down and making him dizzy. 

“Barely,” the elder rasps out. He sets Jinyoung down carefully, rests his back against a column and applies pressure to a gaping wound that cuts deep through the boy’s stomach, his fingers turning red. Wonpil chokes on a sob at the sight of it.

“Listen to me,” the man says, turns to stare resolutely at Wonpil. It's only then that he notices the frantic look in the older man’s eyes, the way his hands can't seem to stop shaking even as he tries his best to stop Jinyoung from bleeding out in the courtyard. “Listen to me carefully.”

Wonpil forces himself to drag his gaze from Jinyoung, and turns his attention to his teacher, hearing the urgency in the man’s tone.

“There are more men than before, this attack- it’s more than we can handle,” he admits.” I need you to go, take a bison and fly out to the Fire Nation. They promised us help, now it's time for them to deliver.”

“I-” Wonpil starts, doesn't get to finish because the elder holds up a hand and shakes his head firmly.

“You need to go now, before they catch you.” He takes Wonpil’s hands, which can't seem to stop trembling, and drops a small, golden medal into them. “We can’t afford to lose any men, so you will have to go. This should be enough to guarantee their help. Now go.”

“But I can’t, I’m - I’m just a student,” Wonpil stutters, looks pleadingly up at the man. Wonpil has never stepped a foot outside the Temple, has only ever known it's safety, and now they're asking him to travel across miles and miles of land and sea, completely alone.

“You're a student of the Southern Air Temple,” the elder replies, resolute. “You're an airbender and that means you're brave, that means you're _strong_. So go, may the spirits be with you, child. We're counting on you.”

Wonpil doesn't feel brave, he doesn't feel strong. He failed his teacher and he failed his best friend, he's none of those things. In that moment, the only thing Wonpil feels is scared. But the man is already turned away, attention back to Jinyoung. So Wonpil clenches his hands around the golden coin and makes a decision. 

He already failed his family once, he won’t do it again.

Determined now, Wonpil hangs the coin from the necklace tied around his neck, turns on his heels, and starts running. He races, gains momentum until there’s no more ground to run upon and he falls into the empty sky, unfurls his staff to let the wind carry him to the other side of the Temple. As soon as his feet touch the edge of the platform, Wonpil is dashing to the bisons’ stalls, whistling for them to come to him. 

“Jay!” he calls out, searching around for the familiar head of white fur. “Jay, where-”

A hand shoots out to wrap around his arms, pulling him back into a hard chest and the telltale scratch of a knife digging into the skin of his neck. Wonpil chokes, claws frantically at the hands keeping him trapped.

“No, no, little airbender,” a voice tuts, mocking. “There’s no running away.” Wonpil flinches at the words, sees the man holding him smirk at him when he tries to struggle harder. Wonpil is no fighter, has never been trained as one, but he knows the winds, knows how to use them as his allies, so he tightens his hands, draws his foot back with one last twist and sends a gust of wind that man’s way, making him stumble back enough for Wonpil to break free of his hold.

“Brat,” the man spits out, swishing his knife around so that it glints under the faint moonlight. It’s enough light for Wonpil to see him. His attacker is all clad in black, hair covered by a piece of cloth tied around his nape that comes around to cover his chin too so that only his mouth, nose and eyes are left uncovered. No clue anywhere to which nation he might belong to. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

Wonpil doesn’t answer. Instead he circles carefully around the man, keeping his distance and whistling low to signal his position. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jay come stumbling out of his stall, drawn to the sound.

“I’m waiting,” Wonpil counters, tries to surround himself with enough bravado to appear intimidating. The man doesn’t buy it. He just laughs, swings his knife around, and then lunges.

Wonpil kicks out, strikes empty air, and turns to block one of the man’s own hits. His attacker is fats, dealing blow after blow in quick precision, backing Wonpil into a corner the more he tries to dance away from his hits. Wonpil draws his hands together, pushen them out to create a current of air that sends the attacker reeling back and giving him a moment to breath. It's not enough, because the man only comes at him harder this time, angrier too.

Wonpil knows he has no chance of winning, his airbending skills not enough to outweigh his lack of training, but he doesn’t _need_ to win, all Wonpil needs is enough time to get away.

So the next time the man comes at him, Wonpil lets his guard down. The man doesn't stop to think, just strikes a few hits on Wonpil’s body. It seems odd somehow, because his attacker barely uses his knife, chooses instead to hit Wonpil with his palm flat out, quick and precise, almost like he knew exactly where he wanted to hit.

“There,” the man snarls. “Let’s see how you fight now that we’re even.”

Wonpil doesn’t think much about the strange choice of words - can’t, because it’s when the man lunges at him again that Wonpil manages to turn them around, so that Wonpil’s back is facing Jay now. With effort, Wonpil gathers what energy he had left and breathes in, lets the wind build inside his lungs before he spits it out, sends the man sprawling away with its force.

And then Wonpil turns and runs. 

A gust of wind lifts him up to Jay’s back, where Wonpil grips onto his fur for a lack of a proper saddle and urges him to fly away. The bison takes to the sky, rushing away from the Temple and into the night. Wonpil forces himself not to turn back and look at his home one last time. He knows it would only make him want to go back.

Wonpil breathes out, tries to calm his racing heartbeat. He’s bleeding from a wound on his temple, bruised around his torso and waist, and he’s so scared it barely even lets him think, but he needs to keep going. His family is counting on him to get help, depending on him to _save_ them, Wonpil won’t fail them, won’t let himself even think about the possibility of it. 

Suddenly, Jay lets out a cry of surprise, making him look up.

“God,” Wonpil breathes out, just as they stumble right into the raging storm clouds that are tearing the sky apart.

Wonpil had forgotten about the storm, hadn’t seen it coming either, too lost in his own thoughts, But now it’s suddenly right _here_ , swallowing them whole. Wonpil reaches out, tries to summon a current to lift them away from the tempest, but he falls short, a cry of pain tearing its way out of his throat. 

It hurts, Wonpil realises, numb with shock, trying to use his airbending skills is _hurting_ him. His body pulses, fights against it. It almost seems like something it's blocking them somehow. It’s harrowing, not being able to count on the wind like he’s used to. He rebels at the thought of it, because it feels like he’s lost a limb; a fundamental part of him suddenly _gone_.

“Look out!” Wonpil cries, flattening himself against Jay’s fur as the bison swerves to the right in order to avoid a flash of lightning that comes whistling across the sky. And then comes another, and another and another one after that, until Wonpil is forced to make Jay go lower to avoid them better. 

The rain is pelting against his back, making it hard to see in the darkness. Only the sudden cracks of lightning illuminate the storm. 

Which is why Wonpil doesn’t see the iceberg until it’s too late.

With a roar of pain, Jay goes crashing into the side of the frozen mountain, tumbling down as thunder continues to boom all around them. Wonpil scrambles, tries to call for the winds to help them, but it still hurts to try and all he can do is fight to keep a tight hold of Jay’s fur so that the tempest won’t separate them. 

Wonpil doesn’t know how long they flew, how much time it’s been since they’ve left the Temple, but he can feel the coldness of the water as they fall into it, can feel the harsh crash of the waves all around them. 

Wonpil struggles to breath, tries to fight his way out of the cold sea, because he can’t fail the airbenders - can’t fail his family, not again, _never_ again. So he reaches out one last time, calls the air for help, but then another waves comes crashing, the winds remains out of reach and Wonpil sinks down again, drowns under its force and the heavy weight of knowing he failed them just when they needed him the most.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lead the airbender home, Younghyun,” he says. “Lead him home and then you will come back as the tribe’s new leader.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I updated the tags. I've decided that this is going to be Jaehyungparkian (what a surprise right?) but the other pairings are still to be decided. To be honest, I want to concentrate more on developing the bonds between the five of them as a group more than the individual pairings.
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter! It's longer than the first because chapter lengths will probably vary a lot, as will the povs. 
> 
> I'm super excited about this fic, I can't repeat that enough. It's my bby and I really hope you guys will like it too<3

The snow is punishingly cold when Younghyun hits the ground. 

He grunts, breathless from the fall, and barely manages to roll away in time before another jet of water can hit him and pin him down. Struggling, Younghyun jumps to a stand. He spreads his feet apart and calls up a column of water to block the hit that comes his way, but he still staggers under the force of it and the wall crumbles, leaving him open for the attack that sends him crashing back down to the ground.

“You can do better Younghyun,” he hears through the ringing in his ears, the words laced with enough challenge to make him snarl and climb to his feet again, painful as it may be. “I know you can, so _show me_.”

Younghyun lunges, kicks out and follows the move with a gust of water that sends the other waterbender sliding backwards across the snow. Younghyun uses that small moment where the other man’s guard is down to twist his hands in the air and freeze the water at his feet, leaving his opponent rooted to the spot.

“Better.” He gins despite the bloody lip Younghyun has given him. “But still you need to remember,” he says just as Younghyun feels a string of ice-cold water curl around his neck, ready to choke him at the slightest move on his part. “You must always guard you back.”

Despite the water threatening to tighten around his throat Younghyun smiles, sharp-edged and victorious. “I could say the same for you.” He nods, tilts his head up so the man can follow his gaze up to where a sharp point of water hangs just above his head, ready to come down on the man at Younghyun’s command.

The older laughs, raises his hands in defeat and pulls Younghyun towards him as soon as he lets the man free of the hold the frozen water at his feet had him on.

“You’re good, brat,” he says warmly, making Younghyun fight down the pleased smile that threatens to come out at the rare words of praise. “Though it’s not that surprising, you had me as a teacher after all.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Younghyun replies, grinning still. “That’s only because apart from me, you’re the last waterbender of our tribe.”

“You’re forgetting about grandmother Kyung,” Wooyoung reminds him, grins when he sees Younghyun scowl back at him. “You could have been stuck practicing the healing arts your whole life instead of learning how to kick your enemies into submission with me.”

“Don’t remind me,” Younghyun sighs. “She’s still trying to goad me into taking a few lessons from her.”

“Ah, that old woman. She already gave up on me a long time ago, thankfully,” Wooyoung sighs before he turns towards Younghyun and says, more serious now, “but she’s right too. A good leader should know how to take care of his tribe. And that means being able to keep them safe.”

“I know that,” Younghyun answers because he _does_. All Younghyun has ever wanted is to keep his family safe. After everything that happened he made that a priority; he will never let anything like the fire raids take his family away from him, never again. It’s a promise he made to himself a long time, and one he intends to keep.

“I know you do,” Wooyoung says, eyes softening. “But that is not something you achieve only through power and raw force,” he explains. Younghyun watches as the older reaches out a hand and calls for the water, letting it coat the outside of his palm before he presses it lightly to Younghyun’s temple, where a wound is bleeding sluggishly from where he wasn’t able to dodge well. “You need a gentle touch as well,” he finishes with a smile, and Younghyun feels the wound stitch close under the older’s hand.

Younghyun huffs, annoyed. “Didn’t you say she gave up on you?” he asks, raises an eyebrow up at the older. 

“Of course she did,” Wooyoung laughs. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t pick up a few things before she kicked me out of her hut. You should go to her sometime, let her teach you some things.”

“Maybe,” Younghyun relents, though he already knows he won’t. He doesn’t see the point in learning about things like healing herbs and chakra points when his time could be better spent perfecting his fighting stance and learning new water techniques from Wooyoung. If his home ever comes under attack again, then he needs to be prepared to defend it, and the means knowing how to fight back and attack. After all, knowing how to heal someone up will do him no good if there’s no one left to heal in the first place.

“You’re a good fighter Younghyun,” Wooyoung says, lays both hands over Younghyun’s shoulders so he can lock eyes with him. “You’ve come a long way from the little waterbender that you were, but you still have so much to learn.”

“Don’t say that,” Younghyun spits out before he can stop himself, frustration rising unbidden at the older’s words. “You sound just like my father.”

“That’s because your father is right,” Wooyoung replies, stern like he almost never is. “You’re too eager for revenge Younghyun, you need to learn how to be at peace before you take over as clan leader.”

“Right,” Younghyun grunts. “Because my father is so willing to hand over that position. He doesn’t even let me sit in on the clan’s meetings.” It’s a bitter feeling, the ones that takes over Younghyun when he thinks about the shut doors and endless refusals he faces whenever he tries to step up as the next clan leader. He can’t help but let resentment swell up in between his ribs, making him nauseous. He just wants to help, he doesn’t understand why his father refuses to let him.

“He knows what’s best for you,” Wooyoung says, trying to placate him, but Younghyun is far too wound up to listen. “You just have to trust him.”

“Trust goes both ways,” Younghyun counters, frowning at his teacher. He can’t help but recall all those times his father refused to listen to him, waved away Younghyun’s concerns and his advice, claiming he was still too young, too unprepared, like he hadn't been part of the fire raids that took away their family too. “If he would only listen to me, then I coul-”

“Younghyun! Younghyun!”

Both waterbenders turn around at the sound of the hurried shouts. A little kid is running across the snow field they always go to for practice, calling out their names as she does her best to reach them. 

“What’s the matter?” Wooyoung asks as soon the kid staggers to a stop, kicking snow everywhere as she stumbles on her feet. “What happened?”

The girl is panting, a wide-eyed look in her eyes that makes Younghyun wary, fingers twitching at his sides as he waits for her to calm down enough to give an answer.

“They send me to get you,” she explains hurriedly to him. “Quick, you have to come.” She begins tugging at him, starting to walk back the way she came. Younghyun shares a look with Wooyoung, worry already making his throat tight as they head in the direction of the settlement. They are the only two waterbenders left in their tribe, at least the last ones who can fight. There’s only so many reasons they would have called them back and none of them herald anything good.

“What happened?” Younghyun presses, quickening his step when he spots the small cluster of huts in the distance. There’s people huddled together around his father’s hut, the one used for important meetings, and Younghyun call tell that whatever's happened, it’s big enough to have drawn the whole village’s attention.

“I don’t know,” the girl replies. “They just told me to come get you.”

Younghyun doesn’t wait any longer. He rushes forward, ignores Wooyoung’s shouts for him to wait and runs until he’s standing before the entrance of the main hut.

“Father,” he calls out as he steps inside. “Father, what happened? What-’”

“Hush.” Younghyun falters, stops enough to take the inside of the hut in. His father is standing by the corner, looking at him sternly, commanding compliance silently in the way only he is capable of. But it’s not him where Younghyun’s attention drifts to, because right in the middle of the hut, covered by dozens of blankets, lays a boy, one Younghyun realizes immediately doesn’t belong here.

“Who is he?” he asks, narrows his eye at the boy’s prone form for any signs of the nation he might be from. “Is he an enemy?”

“Calm down, child.” 

Younghyun turns around at the sound the newcomer’s voice. Grandmother Kyung is making her way inside the hut, carrying a bowl water and a few bandages with her. “Not everyone is a threat,” she says, kneeling down next to the boy carefully.

“Do you even know from which nation he’s from?” Younghyun asks, the question crealy directed at his father. “We can’t just allow anyone into our territory! What if-”

“Control, Yonghyun,” the man replies curtly, holding up a hand to stop him. “One of our men found him laying unconscious near the eastern border while fishing. He was - _is_ badly wounded. We’re just helping him recover.”

“He could be from the Fire Nation for all you know!” Younghyun cries, ignores the way the old woman huffs under her breath as she starts hovering her hands over the boy to look for injuries and glares at his father instead. “This could very well be a trap!”

“We are no longer at war with the Fire Nation,” his father answers, a look not unlike frustration flashing across his eyes when he looks at him. “You need to understand that, Younghyun. I won’t deny help to anyone because of a _what if_ , much less a to child. And neither should you.”

“Why did you call me here if you won’t even listen to my opinion then?” Younghyun asks, doesn't bother to hide the resentment and slightest bit of hurt cutting his voice thin.

“I thought you have been of help,” the man says. “Clearly I was wrong.”

“That’s because you won’t let me help,” Younghyun counters. “Just listen to me for a second-”

Before he can finish, grandmother Kyung hushes them both. “He’s waking up,” she says just as the boy twitches in his sleep, eyes flying open as he lurches awake.

“No!” the boy cries out, reaching out a hand as if he were trying to hold onto to something, breathing labored and frantic. “Jay, what…” he trails off, eye growing wide the longer he looks around. “What, where - where am I?”

“Who are you?” Younghyun asks in return at the same that the older waterbender gently pushes the boy to lay back down on the blankets and shushes him softly.

“You’re safe, little one,” she says, tone careful as if she were trying to calm down a frightened animal. “You’re in the Southern Water Tribe, you’re safe. Do you remember what happened to you?”

“I-” the boy stutters, his eyes landing on Younghyun for a moment before they slide over to his father, who nods at him to go on. “There’s was an attack, I had to, god - I need to get to the Fire Nation!”

“The Fire Nation?” Younghyun spits out. “Why would you want to go to those murderers?”

“Younghyun,” his father cuts in, sending him a warning glance over the boy’s head, who flinches when Younghyun narrows his eyes at him. “Let him speak.”

“They promised they would help,” the boy explains, clutching at something on his chest. A necklace, Younghun realizes before the boy notices him staring and slips it under his shirt and out of sight. “We were attacked and my teacher said they would help, but I - I got caught up on a storm and Jay- oh god, where is Jay?” The boy panics then, struggling to sit up, but grandmother Kyung pushes him down before he can.

“Don’t move, you’re wounded,” she says, lets her palms glow with the light of the healing water as she presses them over a few points in the boy’s torso. “Your chakra pathways were blocked, you need time to recover.”

“My chakra was blocked?” the boy asks disbelieving before something seems to dwan across his face and he says, “so that's why the winds wouldn't answer me, why I couldn't airbend...”

“You’re an airbender?” his father asks, surprised, but Younghyun gets stuck in the first part of the sentence.

“What do you mean you couldn't use your bending skills?” he questions, because what the boy is claiming, that’s _impossible_ , completely unnatural. Younghyun has never heard of anything like that before. The mere thought of it is enough to make him recoil.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” the boy answers, clenching his fists into the blankets and looking straight at Younghyun. “When I was trying to escape, one of the attackers managed to stop me. He hit me a few times and then a couple of minutes after I couldn't get the winds to listen to me, but I hadn’t made the connection until now.”

“But that’s impossible,” Younghyun says, turning to look at grandmother Kyung, who’s watching the airbender boy intently. “Right?”

“Not completely, no,” the old waterbender answers, eyes far away and clouded with something very akin to worry. “There is a way to block a bender’s abilities. By cutting off their chakra flow their skills can become inaccessible for a few moments, but I thought the knowledge long lost. I haven’t seen it used since the days of the Great War.”

“Then he’s lying,” Younghyun says firmly, pointing at the boy. “If you say it hasn’t been used since the Great War then-”

“I’m not lying!” the boy cries. “I wouldn’t lie about any of this.”

“He’s telling the truth,” the woman answers, putting placating hand on top of the boy’s shoulders. She’s speaking directly at his father though, who nods at her words, and that’s enough for Younghyun to know that he believes her. “I can sense the block that used to be in his pathways.”

“Used to?” the boy asks tentatively. “You mean I can airbend again?” 

Grandmother Kyung doesn’t get enough time to answer. Before she can say a word the boy is putting his hands together, taking a deep breath and then letting it out in a mighty rush that whizzes straight past Younghyun and almost blows the hut cleanly of the ground.

“Hey!” Younghyun shouts at him, alarmed, and uses the small handful of water still in the bowl to curl it around the boy's hands and keep him from moving. “Stop that!”

The boy stills and turns to stare at Younghyun wide-eyed. “You’re a waterbender?” he asks, seems he can’t quite believe what he just said, even with the water handcuffs curled tight around his hands. “I thought that the Fire Nation had- that you were all extinct.”

“Yes, well,” Younghyun breathes, feels a heady mix of anger, regret and overwhelming sadness coil around his chest at the thought. “Those bastards didn’t manage to kill us all.”

“I- I’m sorry,” the boy says ruefully, but then his eyes turn determined, his right hand coming to clutch at the necklace that hangs under the clothes they had fit him into. “But I need to get to the Fire Nation before it’s too late. The airbenders, my _family_ , they’re all counting on me to get help. I have already lost so much time. They won’t hold under the attack much longer.”

“We understand,” his father says, “but you’re still wounded and you need to rest.” He holds up a hand when he sees the boy open his mouth to retort. “That doesn’t mean we won’t let you go, but you need to be ready for the trip, so rest here. Grandmother Kyung will take care of you and then, when you’re recovered, we will provide you with supplies for your journey and all the help you may need.”

“Thank you,” the airbender boy answers, settling down. “I appreciate it.”

His father nods at him and then turns on his heel, heading out of the hut. “Younghyun,” he calls before he’s past it, “come with me.”

Younghyun throws the strange boy one last look before he follows his father out into the white expanse of their settlement. Most of the tribe is huddled to one side of the hut and they all perk up when they step out. They start asking questions almost immediately, clamoring for answers, but one stern _I’ll explain later_ from his father has them all calming down. Their tribe trusts their leader, always has. That hasn’t changed over the years, only strengthened really, especially after the fire raids, when his father proved himself capable of taking care of them and pulling them out of the wasteland the Fire Nation left behind themselves.

“Are we really going through with what you just said?” Younghyun asks once they’re both a few feet away from the crowd, behind the main hut where there’s more privacy, enough not to be overheard. “Are you really going to let him go ask the Fire Nation for _help?_ ”

“Yes, I am,” his father answers, resolute. Younghyun scowls, feels anger beginning to simmer low on his stomach at the man’s answer.

“Why,” he spitst out. “After everything they have done are you really going to send a defenseless boy right to them? Are you that cruel?”

“And why is it that you’re so concerned with the boy’s fate now?” his father asks in return. “Is it because you’ve realised he’s not Fire Nation scum?” The sarcasm in his father’s voice makes Younghyun bristle, the ground shaking at his feet from where the water in the snow is reacting to his frustration. “Would have you denied a boy your age help if he came from the Fire Nation?”

“I-” Younghyun starts, can’t get himself to finish because he _doesn't know_. He likes to think himself a kind person but he can’t deny that the thought of offering a hand to someone who came from the nation that took everything from him makes him hesitate.

“Younghyun,” his father sighs, puts his hands over his shoulders and lets them rest there, heavy with a weight Younghyun is far too familiar with. “I have no doubt that you will be a great leader someday, I know that. But you need to let go of this anger, son. It will do you no good, you need to forgive, Younghyun.”

“How?” he asks bitterly. He means to sound defiant, means to get his point across, but he knows he doesn’t manage to. He just sounds plain defeated instead. “How can you forget everything they did? Everything - _everyone_ they took from us?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” his father answers, and Yonghyun sees the truth there, sees it in the lingering sadness darkening the man’s eyes. “But hatred is not an easy burden to carry and I’m far too tired of anger. Revenge,” his father pauses, seems to draw in a deep breath and come to a decision, “that is something you will have to give up if you intend to prove yourself worthy of leading our people.”

“What do you mean?” Younghyun falters, caught of guard by the change in the conversation. “Prove myself worthy how?”

“That airbender boy needs to reach the Fire Nation,” his father explains, “but he can’t do it alone. So you must go with him Younghyun, guide him and keep him safe until he gets the help he needs.”

“You want me to go the _Fire Nation_?” Younghyun cries, rips himself out of his father’s hold. “I won’t!”

“Yes, you will,” his father commands, and there's really no other word for it, not with the way his voice rings true, leaving no room for argument. “You want to lead our people, fine. But you need to show me that you’re willing to let go of the past and guide them to a better future.”

“Lead the airbender home, Younghyun,” he says. “Lead him home and then you will come back as the tribe’s new leader.”

All Younghyun can do is stand there, numb, and watch as his father turns his back to him and enters the hut where the airbender rests again. 

His father wants him to prove his worth? Fine, Younghyun thinks. He’s going to do whatever it takes to make him see that’s he’s ready to lead his people, show him that the past is not something to be forgotten either.

 

The day after, when the sun is just barely painting the snow in shades of orange and most of the settlement is still asleep, Younghyun makes his way into the main hut with his bag hanging from his back and only one thought running across his mind.

“C’mon,” he calls to the airbender boy, who’s sitting by a corner of the hut, staring at the pendant that hangs from his necklace and looking lost inside his own head. “We need to get going if we want to reach the Fire Nation soon.”

The boy’s head snaps up at the that. He blinks at him, once, twice, and then jumps to his feet with a sudden gust of air. 

That, well, that’s going to take Younghyun a bit of time to get used to.

“You’re coming with me?” he asks, hurriedly grabbing for his own bag and a stick Younghyun hadn’t realised he had with him until now before following Younghyun out of the hut. “To the Fire Nation?”

“Yes,” Younghyun agrees, though he tries not to think about it much. It still doesn’t sit right him, heading straight into what he considers to be enemy territory, but if that is what he has to do to keep his tribe safe, then that’s exactly what he’s going to do. “C’mon, my father is waiting for us by the boats.”

“We’re not going to get the Fire Nation _by boat_ ,” the boy says disbelieving.

“Do you have a better way of getting across miles of sea?” Younghyun asks in return, raising an eyebrow at the airbender, who grins back at him. It’s strange, seeing such an open expression on the boy, who had looked so lost only a few hours before, but before Younghyun can wonder much about it the other is turning way and walking towards the shore line.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he comes to stand beside the airbender, who’s staring at the horizon, scanning the sky as if he were looking for something.

“I’m for looking for our way to the Fire Nation,” he answers simply before he lets out a whistle, low and long and ringing. 

The sound echos in the distance, but nothing of importance seems to happen after that. Younghyun is ready to drag the boy towards the docks when a sudden splash draws his attention to the right just in time to see a massive furry beast flying across the water’s surface and straight towards them.

Younghyun shouts, ready to defend himself and the boy, when the airbender starts laughing and shouts, “Jay! Over here!”

The gigantic, flying _thing_ shakes its heads once, eyes zeroing in on the airbender jumping up and down beside him before it swoops down to a stop in front of him and starts licking all over the boy.

“Jay!” the boy shouts, absolutely delighted even while being covered in the beast’s saliva. “I knew you would be fine - hey, stop it. I’m fine too, you big sap.”

“What- what is that?” Younghyun asks, carefully drawing closer to the animal. Out of the corner of his eye he sees his father and Wooyoung come running, no doubt concerned about the mighty roars the animal is letting out as he continues to circle the airbender boy happily.

“ _Who_ ,” the boy corrects him. “And his name if Jay, my flying bison.”

“Your _flying bison_ , of course,” Younghun breathes as he watches the boy pet the beast, animal - whatever. “We’re supposed to fly in that?”

“Jay will carry us, yes,” the boy answers, narrows his eyes at him. “What, are you scared?”

“No,” Younghyun scowls in return. “Just - how are we going to ride him if he doesn’t have a saddle?”

“I, uh, hadn’t thought of that honestly,” he answers, frowning. “I wasn’t that concerned with comfort while trying to escape the attack, you’ll have to forgive me,” he shoots back defensively.

“I think I can help with that.” Both of the turn around to see Wooyoung grinning at them, looking completely at ease standing right beside Jay the bison. “We can reuse a few of the old sleds and I’m sure I can fashion something out of the pelts. Just give me a few minute,” he says, winking at them both and then nodding at his father, who had just come to stand behind him, before rushing off in the direction of the settlement. 

“Younghyun,” his father says, motioning him forward. “A word before you go.”

Younghyun sighs but complies. He follows after his father until they’re out of the airbender’s earshot, who seems content enough reuniting with his bison.

“I wanted to give you this,” the man says, taking out a roll of paper, one Younghyun immediately recognises as a waterbending teaching scroll. “It’s something your mother wanted to give you, said she wanted to teach you how to use it herself.”

Yonghyun mouth turns dry at the words. He takes the scroll with trembling hands, almost reverent in his touch. They don’t talk much about Younghyun’s mother - they _can’t_ , not with the pain and regret her memory brings. This is the closest his father has come to mentioning her is almost five years.

“She said she would teach you when you were ready,” the man goes on, voice careful as he talks, vulnerable almost. “I don’t understand its contents, but I know it’s not a technique many know. I still thought you should have it,” he adds. “This journey is not going to be an easy one and I want you to be prepared.”

“Thank you,” Younghyun manages to choke out, curling his hands around the scroll tightly.

“Be careful, Younghyun,” is all his father says in return, pulling him closer so he can rest his forehead against his. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Younghyun swallows, lets himself close his eyes and remember the sound of his father's heartbeat before he pulls away and straightens up. Their relationship is a strained one, turned tense after his mother’s death, but the man is still his father. Younghyun doesn't want to lose him. He’s doing this for him as much as he's doing it for himself after all.

“I’ll come back,” he says, smiles determinedly at his father, who smiles back, just this side of sorrowful. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” the man replies before he motions for him to go. “Now, it’s time to leave. You should reach the Fire Nation in three days if all goes according to plan.”

Younghyun nods at him, takes a look at the bison. Wooyoung and the airbender are slipping a hastily constructed saddle atop the bison’s back, piling supplies over it too.

“Come on,” the airbender calls out to Younghyun, reaching out a hand to pull him up to the saddle with a rush of wind. “We need to go.”

“Right,” Younghyun replies, taking one last look at the little village he calls home, the one he’s leaving just to prove himself worthy of leading. 

“Be safe, Younghyun,” Wooyoung calls out to him, smiling despite the worry in his eyes. “Remember what I taught you!”

“I will!” Younghyun answers back just as the airbender whistles again and the bison takes to the sky, drawing him away from the snow.

Younghyun stares at the ground for a long time. He feels a strange mix of determination and sadness take a hold of him, making him dizzy, and he only manages to turn away when he can no longer see his village, lost in the distance.

“So,” the airbender says when he sees him looking at him. He’s sitting cross-legged near the bison’s head, bare-footed and just as determined as Younghyun feels. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Younghyun,” he replies, realizes that he actually doesn’t know the boy’s name either. “I’m Younghyun.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Younghyun,” the airbender replies, reaching out to shake his hand. “My name is Wonpil.”

“Wonpil,” Younghyun repeats, can’t help but smile when he sees him brighten up. “Lets get you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went with Younghyun instead of Brian because I thought the name Brian was too odd to write into an ATLA setting, I hope that's okay.  
> Younghyun's backstory and hatred for the Fire Nation will be explained! Just wait a few chapters hehe. 
> 
> Please do tell me what you thought! If you have any questions about pairings or plot or just want to come talk to me feel free to drop by my [tumblr](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/). I love talking with you guys and I really wanna know what you think about this fic of mine<3
> 
> (Also, watch out for those hints about the bad guys *wiggles eyebrows*)


End file.
